


A Bottle of Ink

by miriata



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Crying, Friendship, I'm Sorry, Light Angst, Oneshot, it doesn’t feel right to put pining but it’s like platonic pining if that makes sense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miriata/pseuds/miriata
Summary: Tubbo looked down at the glass and ran his thumb over the smooth surface.Ranboo didn’t respond, just carefully joined his friend on the floor before pulling out a bottle of ink from his pocket. He carried one everywhere.“What’s that for?” Tubbo asked him, a little confused.“You’ll see, grasshopper,” Ranboo answered.
Relationships: Ranboo & Tubbo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	A Bottle of Ink

**Author's Note:**

> // potential tw for derealization!! stay safe! <3
> 
> i wrote this at like 11pm and now it’s 6am so i’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes or repetition. enjoy this short oneshot!

The air was heavy under their skin, while Ranboo and Tubbo were out for a stroll. 

Attempting to ease tension under such delicate circumstances was a difficult task, proven by how badly Tubbo was taking the news of Tommy’s unexpected imprisonment. It had only been a day and he was practically tearing at the seams at the absence of him.

Ranboo never understood why.

He was coming back soon, so why was Tubbo so upset? From what he remembered, Tommy wasn’t the best friend towards Tubbo despite how much they’d been through together.

…

Maybe that was it? He didn’t know. But the glass shielding the ruins of a massacre glimmered in the starlight, and a puddle of tears was forming under his balled up friend. Ranboo sympathetically put a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, making a poor attempt to not cry himself. 

It would hurt, and the scarring under his eyes was evidence of the rage his skin felt under it. 

“Why are you still here?” Tubbo looked up at him. His face was red and snotty, and the shake in his voice made him stumble over words. He was making himself sick from the tears, and yet kept at it.

“Because, maybe, that’s what friends are for,” Ranboo replied. He slowly took out a small handkerchief from his coat pocket and gave it to Tubbo. He needed it more than him anyway, and wasn’t particularly attached to it.

“But you don’t have to be here. You could’ve left at any point, and yet you’re still here,” Tubbo choked out. 

“What kind of a person would I be if I did that?”

“The kind who knows what’s more important,” Tubbo looked down at the glass and ran his thumb over the smooth surface.

Ranboo didn’t respond, just carefully joined his friend on the floor before pulling out a bottle of ink from his pocket. He carried one everywhere.

“What’s that for?” Tubbo asked him, a little confused.

“You’ll see, grasshopper,” Ranboo answered. Tubbo looked at him curiously through bleary vision, and watched as his friend cautiously put his pointer finger into the mouth of the jar. His fingertip completely covered in a deep red ink, and then being smudged onto the glass. 

Tubbo started laughing as Ranboo drew little doodles all over the surface, and eagerly extended his hand towards him for the bottle.

…

After 20 minutes, there was a 2-ft radius around the pair where they had drawn little stars, stick figures, and animals. 20 minutes to feel like they were young and impressionable children. 

But unbeknownst to Ranboo, a small hint of a smile was taking shape. He could barely see it in the dark, and the intoxicating exchange of laughter seized his reigns for the time. Now they were standing, and he couldn’t avoid it. The shiny red ink was making itself visible in the moonlight, and while scanning the mini acts of graffiti it caught his eye. 

“Tubbo,” Ranboo breathed, “Did you- did you draw that?” He pointed towards the general area, and Tubbo shook his head.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about big man.”

“The smile? Did you draw it?”

“What smile? Ranboo, you drew that.” Tubbo’s voice was clear, but he noticed the panic tainting his friend’s eyes. 

It was just a smile; people drew them all the time. While talking to Tubbo helped, it couldn’t keep Ranboo from violently shaking his head in protest.

…

“Ranboo what are you doing?”

…

“Snap out of it! Please, come back! Ranboo it’s Tubbo! Please..”

He was powerless. He felt weak, and there wasn’t anything he could do to change that. He just stood there on the glass, watching another friend walk out on him unwillingly. It hurt more than he’d like to admit.

**Author's Note:**

> i love you, hope that wasn’t to bad to read.


End file.
